


two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty

by cheschi



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Boxer AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 13:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18829183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheschi/pseuds/cheschi
Summary: There's a girl in the ring.





	two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty

**Author's Note:**

> ah here we are again, writing fs rpf 
> 
> this prompt was sitting in my notes for the longest time so i just finished it while waiting for my flight earlier bc i've been itching to post something. i'm so rusty but definitely hoping to write more this summer

  
There's a girl in the ring.

The minute he walks into the underground, dim lights and shouts bouncing off the concrete walls, she's the first thing he sees.

It's sobering all at once.

Someone knocks into him and his beer spills from his bottle but he almost doesn't even notice. He swears under his breath when the liquid trickles down his hand because it's going to stick later but other than that it's almost like the rest of the world has melted away. There's just her and her opponent against each other with the light above them barely illuminating their faces.

She sidesteps the blond girl easily, dodging the blow.

Her opponent swings forward, and she twists her body to maneuver.

The brunette puts in punch after punch, knocking her opponent down. When she does get hit, she recovers just as easily, shaking it off and rolls her shoulder to deliver the next blow.

She's untouchable.

Almost.

In a moment of hesitation she sidesteps when she should've stepped forward, so she walks straight into the line of her opponent. Her reaction is quick and she pulls back at the right second, so that the glove only grazes her cheek and he winces inwardly still.

He stays like that for a while, watches the crowds thin out.

Slowly, the crowds thin out and the smell of bodies and alchohol starts to waft away. All the while, she stands there at the side after the fight. Her head is held up, eyes darting around like she's always ready, and like she's used to being watched. People whisper when they look at her, say "The Virtch" with reverence on their tongues and respect in their eyes, but they don't say anything.

When the crowds clear at the end, he slinks his way toward her where she's standing under the dimly lit lamp, propped up against the table.

A girl in a sweatshirt and leggings, who looks enough like the mystery boxer to pass off as her sister or her cousin, is pulling out a medical kit.

"Hey, that was wow—you're—" he pauses, looking for the right words but he finds none, so he makes an exploding gesture with his hands instead. Kapow.

Despite his inability to form any comprehensible sentences to explain the fight to her, she somehow gets it.

She cocks her head at him, "Are you always this articulate?"

The corner of her mouth tilts upward.

He grins wider and draws closer.

"More or less. I suppose being in the presence of certain Virtch may or may not contribute to that."

"Tessa," she says, "You can call me Tessa."

He looks at her bare arms, and they're tense like she's waiting for something. There's a trail of freckles there, and his eyes follow it all the way up to her shoulders and her collarbones and he wonders where the path ends.

She's propped up against the table, muscled arms clutching the edges. Her lookalike medic comes closer, eyes the gash on her knuckles.

Tessa nods at the medic and she begins working on her cuts and bruises. Finally, she gets to Tessa's hands which are a series of complementary contradictions all by themselves. Perfectly manicured nails and long, graceful fingers in contrast with swollen and bruised knuckles, which are currently bleeding.

The medic applies antibacterial solutions and salves on her hands, and then works on the cuts on her face.

She hisses, gripping the table a little tighter.

The sound makes a chill run up his spine.

Tessa thanks the medic, who looks in between the two of them and gives a small nod, gives Tessa a secret look before scurrying off.

Slowly, he raises her hand until it's right in front of it and then carefully, he presses his lips to the callouses that run a map on her hand.

There's something about her that makes him want to know her, something in him that feels like he already does.


End file.
